Running With Guns Drawn
by Denkinasu
Summary: Follows Harley, the ex-Vaultie turned psycho and her travels through the Wastelands. Along the way she finds companions and forms friendships that even her violent nature can't shake. Maybe some pairings, maybe. Rated M for gore and other uncouth topics.
1. Underworld's Drug Deals Don't Come Cheap

Her black boots made little noise as she covered the dead ground of the Mall. Stealth was her objective, and with ease she slipped into the long evening shadows of the broken buildings. But, she was certainly no weakling; being stealthy was her way to reserve her dwindling stamina. Her sore arms from wielding a sledge hammer against a super-mutant was proof enough. But then again, a sledge hammer was an amazing stealth weapon; and she relied on it multiple times when undertaking silent killings or particularly violent ones. Had she not been suffering from critical radiation poisoning, multiple bullet wounds, and a raging hunger and thirst she would've walked right into the open, readily attacking anything that came her way. The Lone Wanderer stumbled away from the super-mutant trenches and evenly found some sort of life…well, un-life was more appropriate. Of course, she'd seen many ghouls before and had even 'helped' a few Tennpenny residents change their minds about allowing them residence.

The female ghoul watched her intently, before Harley put away her rifle and walked up to her stiffly. "Willow! It's been so long I haven't even noticed you." Harley rasped out appreciatively. "What's the matter smoothskin? You sound as bad as us." The older ghoul asked before eyeing her over and nothing the multiple bullet wounds in her combat armor. Harley remained silent as Willow looked her over before finally side-stepping, "You know where the doc is, tourist. Just try not to drop dead."

The 19 year old, practically dragged herself to The Chop Shop, and had barely scrapped enough caps off of some wastelanders and raiders to buy two packs of RadAway. Doctor Barrows looked her over as she settled down on one of the cots before uneasily dipping the needle underneath her skin. She had only a little bit of medical training, and mainly used it when it came to administering Stimpacks in the field. "That won't be enough you know. Did you plan on becoming a ghoul? Is that why you waited so long before coming to a doctor?" he bickered. Harley looked up at him as the RadAway seeped into her system, "Well Doc, when you've been shot at by multiple super-mutants with miniguns, forced to drink out of irradiated streams, no toilet water for that matter, and have had no food, some things take a back seat." He grimaced at her before she her anger abated and she continued, "Do you know Moira Brown by any chance? Down in Megaton." Doctor Barrows nodded solemnly, "I have heard of her, but no I haven't met her. Why?" Harley smiled shakily, the RadAway starting to work, "Well let's just say she fucked up my DNA. Made it so that whenever I have advanced radiation sickness, my crippled body heals immediately. Quite a sight actually." The ghoul raised the muscle where his eyebrow should've been, and as Harley retracted the needle from the first pack, she administered the second one, "So being on the edge of death from one to too many rads isn't very frightening." Barrows rolled his deep sunken gray eyes and let her finish up. After a good 20 minutes she got up, shook on jellied legs, and hastily moved past Nurse Graves. As she reached the door she noted, "I'll probably be back Doc, the last battle ridded me of my Stimpacks supply, but I need more caps before I can buy any." Barrows grunted at her and she slipped past the doors to the Concourse.

She milled about Underworld and briefly talked to a few of the residents about where she could get a bed for the night. Patchwork, in his drunken slur, informed her about Carol's Place. He also told her to watch out for any of his dismembered body parts; he was looking for them. Harley walked up the grand stairs and began to take in her surroundings again; it'd been a long time since she had visited D.C. One of the things that did bother her though about the ghouls was the smell. Sure, they were nice enough, but they smelled of death and sometimes decay (especially some of them hit hard by the bombs). She soon learned to ignore the smell though, and enjoyed the company of them. She did kill a lot though, but rarely in public, and Underworld knew her as no threat. Which made her safe as Three Dog whined about her tyrannical outbursts and sadism. No one knew her as a Vaultie, and she kept that past hidden deeply; even if that meant killing people as a way to prove herself in the Wasteland. A force not to be tampered with. The very evil boogeyman, the Capital crime lord or her favorite, the Capital Cannibal. The thoughts racked about her head as she pulled open the doors to Carol's Place. Two women looked at her wearily, "Can I help you smoothskin?" Carol finally asked. "Yes, I'd like a bed for the night, "she paused before remembering something, "Oh, and Gob sends his regards." The ghoul's eyes sparked with surprise, "You…you've seen him?" Harley nodded, still bedraggled. "Well send my regards back to him! I remember you now…it's been a long time since you've skulked around D.C." Again she nodded silently and shuffled through her bag for a fistful of caps, "Yes, well the Wastelands are a large place you know. I've been busy out there." Harley had a tone of rueful reminiscences. Carol took the soda caps from her and pointed to an empty space with a bed, "It's not great, but it's better than most things out here. It's yours for the night smoothskin."

Harley settled on the bed and looked at her Pip-Boy before turning on the radio to GNR and setting the volume to low. The Ink Spots had finished their famous song and Three Dog came on then, _"Time again, my children, for chills and thrills, fears and scares. Do you know what that creepy Vault Boogeyman has been up to? Listen to this."_ Harley was intent as he recounted her tales with a hint of disgust, and a voice piped up from the corner of the living space, "Creepy stuff indeed, hmm?" She looked over at a finely dressed ghoul leaning lazily against the wall. "I suppose…" "Mister Crowley dear. Now, I can tell, you're an opportunist." He walked up to her, and she noticed that he was more decayed than the other ghouls, not to mention he had green hair. He had an evil aura about him and Harley shifted her spot on the bed to get a quick grip on her assault rifle, should she need it. "Perhaps you'd help me, Miss…?" "Harley, that's all." He nodded at her threatening posture, arms poised to strike to grab the rifle. "Yes, Miss Harley. You see what I need requires some dirty work. Coincidently, do you have a problem with using that rifle over there?" A sly smile graced her tanned skin, "No, no I don't Mister Crowley. Of course, the rifle comes with a price." her voice became hushed, "Cut straight to the point shuffler, who's the victim and what's the pay?" His face faltered at her snide insult, "Well smoothskin since you asked, there's a few people. All ghoul bigot assholes; I'll give you a list. There's one specific things though, all of them need to be shot in the head, just like the old horror movie zombies. I'll pay 100 caps for each one shot in the head, 25 for anywhere else." Her eyebrows furled at the steep decline, but nodded regardless. Hell, she'd already sold a good chunk of people to get money, killing wasn't above her; 100 for a good head shot was pay enough. He held out a list to her, and she took it before looking over the names. "Dukov is dead already." She grunted. Crowley began fishing for his caps, "By a shot to the head?" Harley shook her head abruptly, "How the hell am I supposed to remember? I don't think so though." He tossed 25 caps her way and she began looking over the list. "Come back when they're dead."

_Six AM-_Harley woke up after a fitful sleep and groggily rubbed her hazel eyes before looking around in surprise. She remembered where she was and quieted a bit, before pulling out a chunk of raw mirelurk meat. Eating it thoughtfully she remembered Crowley's offering from the night before. One of them was in Rivet City, and she knew for a fact one of Grouse's VIP slaves were there. But the task at hand for now. Her stomach ached at her radiation poisoning but she ignored it and quietly got up to don her fresh(er) recon armor. In her bag she had a good store of ultrajet from Murphy's lab to sell to Azhrukhal. Part of her monthly trips included going deep into D.C., after roaming the Wastelands. Of course anything she 'scavenged' from other wastelander, raiders, and any other creature could be sold anywhere. But not utrajet. Sugar Bombs were a bitch to hunt down. Murphy converted it and then gave it to her; regardless to say every person she attempted to sell the super drug to shooed her out of the store immediately. Except Azhrukhal, he bought it readily and she enjoyed conversing with the greasy ghoul about…uncouth topics. Throwing her bag over her shoulder she moved out of Carol's Place and past the others who were asleep.

Out in Underworld's Concourse, she past the lone Mister Gutsy model and walked to back door of The Ninth Circle. She entered through the room with a few tables and beds, strung out jet junkies sleeping restlessly. Azhrukhal was up though, polishing a few pitchers and she watched him from the side room. She coughed lightly and he snapped his head up at her in shock. "Char-" "Relax, Azhrukhal. It's been awhile, I do hope you haven't forgotten about me?" Harley said calmly as she strolled into the main room. Charon had rushed to stand at the entryway, hulking presence overshadowing the girl. "Ah, Harley…Don't you look absolutely...miserable. Pull up a stool and lay down a few caps, and tell Uncle Ahzrukhal all about it." Harley sidestepped the bouncer and sat down, hands and fingers splayed gently on the sticky countertop. "What brings you in here so early, hmm?" The girl sneered, "You damn well know, the shipment has come in." A thin smile crossed his decayed face, "Murphy doesn't disappoint, does he? How much did he give you?" Harley's face faltered and her voice quieted, "Enough…about 25 inhalers. I want 50 caps for each." "Outrageous!" Azhrukhal snarled loudly. Charon dared to look up from the corner and a few of the junkies stirred slightly in their sleep. He was fuming from behind the counter and Harley briefly wondered if he would call his thug. "That's inflated Harley, an you know it." his voice went level again. "Yeah yeah, I know. But who's running all over the fuckin' Wasteland to find the secret ingredient? Who else is going to get this ultrajet to the poor ghouls who need a fix?" The ghoul gritted his teeth in annoyance and in a stalemate. "True, true smoothskin," he paused and a thought crossed his mind, "How about a trade instead?" Her hazel eyes narrowed, "What do you have in mind?"

How was that? Good or bad? Please leave a review because the story is getting started and the beginning is always a little slow. What do you think the deal will entail? Well, it's pretty obvious. It won't always be with the two characters though, Dogmeat will come in a little later on. It's worth mentioning that Carol, Greta, and Murphy are all dead on my game file (Carol was an accident on my part, I now realize it was Greta who had to be killed) (Murphy was a bad pickpocket attempt) so some of the dialogue will be OOC. As well, this chapter is fairly ghoul-centered if you hadn't noticed, Chap. 2 will aim to get out of Underworld


	2. Through the Metros

_7am-The Ninth Circle_

An hour about haggling was wearing Harley down, especially after the poor night's sleep. Azhrukhal had offered his thug's contract in exchange for the ultrajet, but Harley knew that even the best of 'contracts' cost 800 caps. "No good," she shook her head and her dark brown hair fell in her face, "I want 450 caps, and his contract Azhrukhal. If you want that spiffy drug to keep coming, those are the requirements." He hesitated before throwing his hands on the counter in reluctance, "Fine girl, you drive a hard bargain!" An angry smile came from the ghoul and he turned to his safe to get the caps and the scrap a paper. "Wonderful." she grunted when he returned. She fished the inhalers out and passed them off then dipped her head, "Nice doing business with you Azhrukhal, I'll be back with another shipment in a few months." He grumbled at her and she got up from the stool, strolling over to Charon icily. The scrap of paper in her hand was held for him to see. "Let's go bouncer, you follow my orders now." He nodded in silence before looking over her shoulder at the ghoul behind the counter, "Yes, but if you'd excuse me for just a minute I need to take care of something…" his voice trailed off before he moved around the teen to see his former master. Harley watched them converse stiffly behind the counter until she saw the flash of a combat shotgun and a fine mist of blood land over the floor. Azhrukhal crumbled to the floor, head split open with blood pooling around it.

She stood cloaked in a boiling anger, face cherry red and eyes wide, "_What the fuck did you just do?"_ she hissed quietly. "Forgive me, Azhrukhal was an evil and vile bastard. He needed to die." he replied innocently. She exploded then, "_BIG FUCKING DEAL! THAT WAS MY GODDAMN JOB!" _She began fuming and stomped past Charon to go behind the counter. The ghouls sleeping in the next room had woken up from the reverb of the shotgun and were looking over at her as she rummaged through his stuff. She was dead silent now, and her new contract stood a ways off watching her. "Wh, what…happened?" One of the residents asked. Harley ignored his question and hacked into the computer, unlocking Azhrukhal's safe.

Cleaning out the refrigerator and the wall safe she stood stiffly. The residents were in shock and she slipped out through the main door of The Ninth Circle quickly. Charon followed her and she hastily made her way downstairs and past Winthrop who looked at her funnily. "Hey smoothskin, you okay?" he called after her. "Perfectly dandy Winthrop." she gritted as she took long strides to the rotunda. The bulky bouncer followed her further back and she shoved the doors open to the Mall.

Once out in the morning sunshine, her anger began fading some. She didn't move for a while and stared over the deep trenches, bag over her shoulder filled with ultrajet once again. She began her walk towards the Metro, fumbling through the bag in the meanwhile. Pulling out a folded mask and shaking it, she held it carefully. The patchwork mask felt like thin leather, and as she came upon the entrance gate she twirled to Charon, "Now, you follow my orders. When I said that back at the bar, I meant it. I lost a very important cog for my transactions because of you. I don't care if he was evil; you'll find that I'm _much worse_." She put the mask on, and she could see a slight grimace from him; disgust. On top of the ghoul mask she tied her grey bandana tightly, eyes twinkling with malice, "Let's go."

Once in the cool darkness of the metro, she flipped on the Pip-Boy's light. Dodging sharp twisted metal she ran through the tunnel past Roamers who stared at her curiously before calling out in a gargled yell and slinking away towards the darkest corners. A gruff mumble came from behind her and she twirled sharply to Charon, face barely illuminated as she kept her arm by her side. "What was that?" she asked irritated, voice muffled by the mask. "Nothing, I was just wondering why they aren't attacking you. Besides from the mask, you share nothing in common with them." She huffed lazily, "Probably because my clothes still smell of blood. On the way into D.C. I met a scavenger, had him repair my stuff, then I killed him and took my caps back." she began walking again, "Do not grumble in my presence Charon, speak. I'm going to make the best of this shit situation, so talk and question. Please inquire." She drawled out the last word sarcastically. They began walking again and Charon chose to take her up on her offer, "Alright smoothskin, " he began, "If your such a tough bitch, why don't you take that mask off and fight?" She huffed again, "Why would I waste my bullets? And, because of your little episode in The Ninth Circle I wasn't able to see Doc Barrows to get more Stimpacks. I ought to take the mask off and have you get into it with them for that; but I can't have you on death's door either."

The two traveled on in silence, Harley remembering the way thoroughly. Occasionally she would check the time and the task she needed to finish. There was that book Moira wanted her to finish, but she found the woman's presence absolutely irritating. Though her original plans were to stop in Megaton before heading out to Rivet City, she decided to head on over to the Minefield. Happy enough, her Mesmertron was in peak condition, and it was time to find other means of getting caps. Well, capturing slaves had never let her down…although when they have a sniper rifle and were perched high enough to see most people coming towards them it was a different story. Harley briefly thought about the last trip there when she left with a hole in her shoulder and her armor almost blasted to shreds. She would disarm the mines, sell them…"Watch it!" Charon yelled before a bit of metal pinged and the jaws of a bear trap viciously snapped together. Harley yelped in suprise as it chomped down on her heavy boot. "Shit." she could feel the teeth digging into the fabric before gingerly prying it away and pulling her foot out. Throwing the bear trap into the dark tunnel she cursed again and flexed her freed foot. "Thanks…"she grumbled somewhat embarrassed before looking around.

"We're almost there." She whispered to him after several excursion through several metros. They were close to the Farragut station near the Potomac, the heavily irradiated river that marked their welcome into Wastelands. Up ahead of them though were several radroaches crawling over each other in a cesspit. She shivered in disgust, bile rising in her throat, "Charon, if those nasty things attack…blow them to bits. Or stomp on them, we still have a ways to go before we get back to Megaton." her voice was cracking in apprehension now. He grunted in reply and the two advanced to the exit. The bugs flared there wings in warning at the two and Harley quickly bolted past them, a phobia she had developed early in life. Charon kicked the roaches away and calmly followed his frenzied employer out into the open air.

It was midday by the time they finally finished the subway travels, and Harley gulped down outdoor air appreciatively. She thoroughly hated the metros, but a trip to D.C. was sometimes necessary. _At least it won't be too bad now. _She thought before looking at Charon, "You hungry?" she asked somewhat bored. He shook his head and she continued on, following the river north.

Checking her map she marked the location and again they traveled in silence. The ghoul took the opportunity to once again take her up on her offer, "Hey smoothskin, you never told me your name." She stopped and looked at the green tinted sky forlornly, "…Harley." was all she said. She sighed and began a jog towards the explosive filled town. They were coming to the end of the buildings that once had marked civilization. "You know, you don't seem as bad as you said you were. Scared of radroaches are we?" he added snidely. She twisted to him, hazel orbs on fire, "Fuck you."

They were camped a ways off of the Scrapyard, the girl messaging her sore legs and feet. A tiny fire had been built and she curled up next to an adjacent rock, exhaustion tearing at her. She searched through her bag again, pulled some meat out and switched on the radio station to GNR. Easy Living was playing softly and she adjusted the volume before tossing a wrapped chunk of ant meat at her contract. She didn't said anything as he looked at her with scrutiny. "When tomorrow comes I need you follow my lead. The Minefield somewhere over there is covered with Frag Mines." she gestured while ripping off a chunk of meat. "There's a crazy fucking sniper called Arkansas there too, if you want you can cripple the coot, but do not kill him. I need to get close enough for the final shot." "As you command," he paused while unwrapping the ant meat. The rhythmic music ended and Three Dog came on, and she slumped to listen to him more comfortably. Charon ate in silence before he continued, "You know, this Vault kid seems like a psycho path. Kind of like how you describe yourself." his tone was bemused slightly and he waited for her angry response. None came, but she glanced up with a tiny smirk on her tanned features. _In the morning_, she thought tiredly, _he'll see that Vault psycho_.

Well, chapter two everybody. I personally don't care for it, but I'm not the reader or the reviewer. Helpful comments/feedback is appreciated. Harley is shifting moods; but she's still no angel (when I do play half the time I help somebody and then blow their precious brain matter in a _splatter_!) Dogmeat is a comin', which should be a fun chapter to write. This one is primarily focused on getting their asses out of the freaking metros, and considering the majority of the time I fast travel, I don't remember the names of the stations. Some I do, others no. Please feel free to suggest what the pair should do or not do; no pairings, not yet anyways. Thanks for reading guys


	3. Two Unlucky Raiders and a Beast

_It felt like her eyes were on fire. A thin veil of white came over them and she blinked to no avail. Within a few minutes it began to phase out ever so slightly and she could see the horizon bit by bit. A gasp almost escaped her lips and she continued shutting her eyes to remove the fuzz surrounding everything. A stiff wind tugged at her hair and she finally remembered where she was before swiveling around to the aged wood door that closed her off from the Vault's tunnel. It was dead silent, no cries of commands or pleas from them for her to return. Just the wind, the noon sun shine, and never ending span of brown dead landscape. "Scenic over view my ass." _

Harley woke up with cramps and slowly stretched them out. The morning sun hadn't come up just yet so she figured it was about six. Charon watched her a ways off as she wordlessly rummaged through her bag for a half-destroyed hairbrush and meticulously combed her mop of hair until it was free of knots. It took her about half an hour before she finally glanced at him, grunted and turned back to her pack to find some food. While she was eating she still hadn't said a word, and Charon nibbled contentedly on some Cram.

"Alright..."she said calmly, "Charon we're heading north away from the river. We shouldn't be attacked by anything since mole rats and Yao Guai ignore me completely, but be prepared." The red headed ghoul glanced up in slight surprise, "Really? How odd, every ghoul that came through to Underworld from the Wastes was terrified of them." Harley shrugged before standing up and holstering the Mesmertron to her hip, "I don't know why, or course they used to attack me but they've stopped after I've explored a lot." Charon chuckled darkly, "You know, you're in a lot better mood than yesterday." Harley smirked before placing her assault rifle on her back and a combat knife in her boot, "Yeah I am, so what? When death is all around you being depressing doesn't help. Come on, we should go."

They traveled north past arching destroyed super-highways and rocky crags. A few of the mutated black bears glanced at her and she walked on with Charon following her. It took the pair about three hours before they reached the Scrapyard. Harley peered at the towering metal heaps from under her bandana, pale face tanned from the sun exposure. "We're almost to the Minefield." she noted quietly before falling into a crouch and edging to the inside of the Scrapyard. They sneaked around the heaps cautiously, a loud gurgling yell making Harley jump slightly. "It's not safe here." the raspy voice sounded from behind her. She looked at him incredulously before crawling to peer around stacked metal plates.

Two male raiders danced around a snarling beast with uncertainty as it lunged for their legs. "You're dead meat!" one yelled angrily. A feral growl ripped from its chest as it snapped at the dark skinned raider wearing sadist's armor. The raider's lighter toned friend pulled a switchblade from his belt and the animal twisted around to leap at him. It grabbed his wrist and with a flash of the beast's fangs severed the artery and had blood pooling on the dusty floor. "You son of a bitch!" the raider screeched as he dropped the blade and the growling animal released him before turning to the other one. His friend stared in a brief horror and turned to flee before the feral lunged for his neck and hung there determinedly. The black raider's eyes bulged slightly as the beast closed his access to air, and crumpled underneath the beast dead. The injured man looked up and began hyperventilating before the creature launched for the other throat and shoved him into the dirt. It clawed at his chest and the two spectators watched with intent as the raider grappled weakly and then went still as teeth punctured his windpipe. It glanced up with blood covering its mouth and growled once more as in triumph.

Harley watched with mixed emotions; fear initially, then delight and relief. "What the fuck is that thing?" she finally muttered. Charon squinted his milky eyes, "I think...I think it's a...dog." The ghoul watched disbelievingly as well. "What a wonderful creature!" Harley almost shouted it. Although she said it too loudly and the dog twirled around with its nose twisted into a snarl. Much to Charon's dismay and the contract's rules going against it, Harley stood up and approached the bristling hound. He reached to grab for her arm but she ripped it away and looked at him sourly before calmly saying, "It's alright, I know what I'm doing." She didn't look at him when she said it but stared loosely at the hound's eyes. His left eye was blue and the right one was brown. The long black strands of fur on his back were puffed out and Harley could still see the blood decorating his fangs. Harley figured him to be an Australian cattle dog* from what she remembered reading from the old books back in Vault 101. She always liked the animals from the photos, but every living example of them had attempted to kill her except for tamed ones. "Easy now...we're not going to hurt you. By the look of it you should be promising us that, huh?" Her tone was nice and light, and the dog stopped growling only to glare at them with barred teeth. Harley pulled her pack around and the dog resumed growling before she pulled out some iguana bits and carefully tossed them to the dog. He watched the pair intently before hungrily snatching them up and eating them. "What are you doing?" Charon whispered angrily. She raised her hand to him in silence and waited. The dog finished eating and looked up with his eyes twinkling now; his ears were alert and he had stopped snarling completely to pant lightly. "See? You know, I think you're the first dog I've met that didn't try to eat me." He barked happily at her now and he turned to sniff at Charon. He hesitantly held his hand out and the dog licked it before turning to Harley and barking again. "You know, you weren't dead meat at all." He wagged his tail and looked at Harley with acceptance. "Dogmeat sounds like a fitting name for you." she smiled before patting the cattle dog's head. "Alright!" Harley said happily, "Let's go."

Chapter three, and Dogmeat is here! This may not be as long as chapters one and two, but I figured adding the piece about the Minefield would be too long. Thank you to the user who added this story to their favorites, it means as much as a review does. Adding this to favorites and reviews will be a determining factor to how much I continue this and how regular it is updated.

~Another note, this chapter is written on a different computer so the format may be slightly altered. Sorry about that!

*Dogmeat is an Australian cattle dog as verified on the Fallout wiki, which explains his two toned eyes.


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